Guess Who? (It's My Turn To Torture You)
by SashaLikaMusica
Summary: How and why was a twin murdered that night? Did she deserve it? And what happened to make Courtney so bitter?


**I'll be doing some editing of this later, so expect the detail of the ending to change.**

It was late, past eleven thirty, and _someone _was disobeying the _rules. _Oh the _rules, _Courtney thought bitterly; those perfect little policies that they simply _dared _not obey. She'd had enough of rules in Radley – when to get up, when to go to sleep, who to talk to, where to go, what to eat – bullshit. She hated being directed every second of her life; she had been born to live, hadn't she? Then why weren't they letting her?

That evening, after their typical late-night cocktail in the dining room, their parents had begun the nightly routine. Jason's instructions were simple – do your homework, read a novel, and go to sleep. Next in line, Alison's weren't quite as easy to follow (no outside activity after eleven o'clock unless you have a good reason). Perhaps they were even lenient directions, but then again, Courtney reflected angrily, they were the _normal _kids.

Courtney, on the other hand, had been overwhelmed by a list of explicit guidelines so precise that she nearly tore the nonexistent paper into a million bits and shreds. First, she was to take a shower (remember to use conditioner!); then she had to brush her teeth ("I'll check to see if you've flossed," her father informed her sternly); then it was time to change into her pajamas, and they had the nerve to remind her that the shirt went on the top of her body, as if she were some toddler who didn't know how to dress herself. After that, it was lights out, and god help her if she so much as _breathed_ too loudly after her door was locked.

Not even her reminders that she was the same age as Alison helped to lessen the stress upon their clearly spoken words. Nothing seemed to impress upon them the fact that though she had been absent from the house since an early age, she _was _almost an adult and they wouldn't be in charge of her forever (she wouldn't put it past the state to emboss some law declaring otherwise, regardless). Now it was nearly midnight, and though Jason had long since obeyed his bed's summons and Courtney was remaining dutifully in her bed (as if she had another choice), Alison had remained on the back porch for at least the past hour and a half, talking loudly.

It almost sounded as though they were arguing, Courtney remarked to herself, before thinking bitterly that it wouldn't be far off the mark. Alison made it her duty to stir up disputes and resentment even among those who knew her best. She had no care for the outcome of another's life; it was all about her, and she was the center of her own little universe. It was an Alison thing.

Courtney sat up in bed and stalked angrily over to the tiny window in the eves (her room was supposed to be hidden from the outside, because no one was allowed to know that a third DiLaurentis child existed, and of _course _her parents wouldn't want anything marring their gorgeous, shiny new reputation). Slamming the window shut angrily, she glared through the smudged glass panes at the faint light issuing from the backyard. She had hoped the latched window would block out the sound of her sister's gallivanting, but of course it was to no effect. It looked like Ali had invited several friends over to engage in a _lively _debate.

She'd be risking the extension of her visit doing it, but she was determined to shut them up.

Using a bobby pin she'd stolen from their mother's bookcase, Courtney knelt before the door and jimmied the lock. Silently, being careful not to wake Jason (through whose room she prowled), she crept from her bedroom and into the hall, carefully sliding the door shut behind her. After a cautious glance shot at their parents' door, she slipped quietly down the main stairs.

She managed to make it through the house with very little difficulty other than a heart-stopping moment involving stubbed toes and a tottering glass vase on the mantelpiece. The back door to the porch stood slightly ajar, and Courtney barely hesitated (slender fingers twitching at the doorknob) before pushing it all the way open.

"I understand your concern, Melissa, but if you and Garrett had _waited _to bring them to me until Jenna got ahold of Ian . . . you have no idea how dangerous this is, bringing these things here . . . could mean trouble for all of us if Cece finds out . . ."

There she stood, fully exposed, her golden hair and baggy sweatpants bathed in the light from the back porch. Ali and her friends stood in the yard; three figures in normal day clothes – two slightly smaller than the other – a box of what looked like DVDs, and – Alison. Courtney's twin stood with her leg cocked to the side, hands on her hips in her brand new _Seven _jeans and bright yellow, ruffled tank top. At the sound of the door opening, all four spun around, slightly startled and obviously uncomfortable at the idea of having been discovered.

Ali relaxed when she saw who it was.

"It's all right, guys – Jenna, Melissa, Garrett, this is my twin sister, Courtney. We don't have to worry about her reporting us – she isn't supposed to exist. She's nuts in the head – bitch tried to kill me once, you know." Ali giggled slightly, waving a hand dismissively and making twirly motions to signify the word _nuts_. At the beginning of her speech, the other three had appeared tense, as though afraid of Courtney. After Alison had concluded, however, they had all visibly relaxed, and one of them – the girl with the blunt, to-the-chin haircut, was even _laughing_.

"What do you want, schizo?" Ali asked, frowning, her beautiful features turning ugly with disgust. "If you can find your way out of being occupied in your own little play world, look around and see. You'll notice that we're a little _busy _here." Courtney's jaw clenched in fury; it wasn't the harsh tone her sister was using that got to her. Courtney wasn't a schizo, and Ali knew it.

"Nothing," she spat angrily, her hands balled into fists at her sides. She crossed them over her chest defiantly. "Only the fact that you guys won't shut up, and now I can't fall asleep." It wasn't like she was going to sleep anyways, but Ali didn't know that. Alison snorted.

"Yeah right," she laughed, her face an ugly sneer. "More like you were playing with your old dollhouse and wanted peace and quiet," she taunted. Another one cleared her throat, the girl with the long white walking stick and the huge, tinted sunglasses. The boy shifted on his feet uncomfortably, all of them clearly at unease with the strange argument (identical figures and identical voices snarling at each other is an extremely confusing thing to follow). Courtney opened her mouth to speak, but Alison cut across her, interrupting.

"Go play back inside, schizo; the adults are talking," she commanded dismissively, ushering Courtney back inside with her hands. Muttering furiously under her breath, Courtney gave up and retired to the house. She hadn't even reached the door before Alison was back to her old conversation again. The man and the sunglasses woman had jumped right back in, but Courtney sensed eyes on her, and turning back to look just as she reached the step, she locked eyes with the blunt-haired girl, and caught the hint of a smile.

But Courtney didn't go back inside – or at least not all the way. She veered to the left as she hit the porch and skipped into the neighbors' hedge to overhear the remainder of the conversation. As the debate ended and the other three left in defeat, Courtney sprang from the bushes and confronted Alison. A battle ensued, ending when Courtney snatched up a shovel from where the construction men had been working on the gazebo, and took a swing at Alison. She might have killed her had Ali not been host to extremely quick, heightened reflexes.

So it was Courtney, and not Alison, who was smashed in the back of the head so that she saw stars, and it was Alison, and not Courtney, who shoved her sister into the hole beneath the gazebo and buried her alive.

And so it was Jason and their parents, and not Courtney, who slept all through that terrible night, never knowing the horrific scene that unfolded in their own backyard.


End file.
